


Arms, Asleep

by Maybethings



Series: May Be Promptin' [171]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-03-07 21:52:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3184472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maybethings/pseuds/Maybethings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Promptfic for Ashaemad fluff. Saemus Dumar has a problem, and it's snoring right on top of his arm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arms, Asleep

Saemus has a problem.

A big problem.

A big, grey problem with horns, and it’s sprawled across one of his arms, snoring softly. He gingerly wiggles his fingers and is rewarded with a tingle of warm pain radiating toward his palm. Well, at least he knows it’s still attached.

He turns to Ashaad, who’s sleeping like the dead. The only sign that he’s even alive to begin with and not some oddly carved statue is the rise and fall of his chest and the teeth behind slightly parted lips. No statue has teeth that white. Or sharp. Saemus rolls over and pecks him on the nose. Ashaad flinches, then opens his eyes.

"Good, you’re awake," he says, keeping his voice low in the indigo hush of midnight. "Are you going to give me my arm back now?"

“ _I think it is still sufficiently attached,_ " Ashaad mumbles, and even though half of it is in Qunlat his companion still understands. His eyelids drop heavily back down. "Go back to sleep,  _kadan_. It is not yet morning. And your arm is a pleasant pillow.”

"Maker," Saemus groans. "Of all the Qunari I got stuck with, it had to be the odd one who turns humans into cushions."

"And of all the humans to encounter, here is the one who attempts befriending the Qunari." But Ashaad’s voice is warm and his broad arm across Saemus is warmer. One must make the best of things, even as a noble or some strange castaway on a beach unknown to most of Kirkwall. He snuggles into his companion’s embrace, wiggles his tingling fingers once more for good measure and closes his eyes, confident that the morning will soon be here.


End file.
